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military hair

I'm finally doing it! tomorrow, at 1:00 i am getting the crew cut i've been dreaming about for the last six monthes. i'm really scared, especially because it's probably not the smartest time to be doing it, but i'm kind of on a roll here. i guess i just want to do it, get the initial fear done with, because, except for being scared, i really can't wait. whenever i imagine how i look, i picture this girl/boy with no hair, and it always makes me happy.

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crushed once again

Okay, so I did it again.....it seems like I can’t go for a week without crushing on somebody. Must be teenage hormones. I’m not sure if this one counts, actually. I could be just starved for contact with people other than my immediate family. Here’s what happened: I’d seen one friend once(!) since I got home, and then my dad and I pull up into a gas station, and guess who’s there? These two girls from the GSA, one of whom is looking absolutely adorable, and is on a total sugar high, so she’s acting it too (not that she doesn’t act cute normally, but chocolate chip cookies, or whatever else she was on, seemed to bring it out stronger).

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sorry, more love poems.......

just a little something bout a girl i met at writing workshop. i started crushing on her in the last 3 days, of course. she wasn't at all like me.....pretty much the polar opposite, but what can i say? she was hot, and she made me all sentimental....

I Could Love a Dominican Woman

She lies on the floor with her head in my lap
Black hair fanned out across my knees
When we first met, she said latino

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letter to a future girlfriend

I wanna be your boifriend
I wanna suck you dry till there’s nothing there
Till you can barely breathe, much less talk
I wanna fuck you with words
Till all that’s left is punctuation
I wanna zip you up and drag you down again
Till I can feel that red satin dress like it’s sin rubbing ice
I wanna know what version of me you’re dreaming of
Cuz yeah, we are the genderqueer generation, baby

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gender disorientation

I have this tendency to get confused. Right when I’ve got sexuality somewhat figured out (okay, not really. Basically I just decided that I’m attracted to who I’m attracted too, though I still hate the term bisexual and still call myself a lesbian). But just when I’m beginning to feel secure in that department, along comes gender, and now I’m all screwed up again.......only less so than before, because I’m pretty sure I’m genderqueer (not exactly, cuz who can really define what genderqueer means!?!), I’m just terrified to accept it.

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fear and love in....massachusetts!?!

So tomorrow, I leave for 3 weeks with total strangers. I’m scared. Terrified, more like it. I mean, not to sound corny or anything, but my writing is pretty much my soul. Its how I express the things I can’t say in first person. Before I came out, I wrote a story about two women who fell in love. I swore I’d never show it to anyone (I still haven’t, but that’s just cause it’s really badly written lol). At the end, one of them, the one who was modeled on the girl I had a crush on at that time, commits suicide. How predictable, right? But my point is, my writing is how I explore things, and lately the things I’ve been exploring aren’t things I feel comfortable sharing with just anyone. Or most people. And then there’s the issue of being out there…. I mean, there is NO WAY I’m going back into the closet now. I’m still in the phase of wanting to shout it from a roof top, but obviously, that might not be the most intelligent choice. Of course, it’s gonna come through in my writing, so maybe I should just make sure everyone knows on the first day. All my characters are gay….write what you know, right?

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coming out as a homophobe

Sometimes, I find myself, filled with fear and self-hatred, thinking “what if they’re right? What if the moral majority really does know what they’re talking about, and there really is something wrong with me?

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boredom

I’m officially completely bored out of my skull, and all of my friends are either not picking up there phones or not home. In general, life sucks, which is why I’m writing…. For once I’m not angry or depressed or even elated. Just BORED, which is a hell of a lot worse, in it’s own way, than any of the above. School ends on Tuesday, but I almost wish I could just skip the weekend and g

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Celebrate Rage

Anger=Power. That’s the message I’ve been getting, and it’s good, because I’ve got a lot of it. Sometimes I’m mad enough to kill. You know what I first thought when I saw a group of queer boys beating a couple of straight ones? It was only a TV show, but I wanted to run out and join them, even though I bet they wouldn’t have let girls in. I would have gone in drag. It would just feel so good….. I know I shouldn’t think that way, that it’s not the answer, no matter how good it would feel. But sometimes, I just want to say fuck them and their institutions of oppression and victimization. Fuck their standards, and fuck their rules. I am tired of having head aches.

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relay for....life?

Well, I survived. I just went to this fundraiser for cancer research, a 24 hour relay. In some ways, it was a lot like the march for reproductive rights that I want on several weeks ago: running on practically no sleep, feet that threaten to give way. There were only a few differences: the march had this beautiful, positive energy going on, everyone willing to smile and talk and help one another, even if they’d never met, everyone there agreed with me politically, at least when it came to the basics of women’s and queer rights, I was with four incredible people whom I now adore (I didn’t really know them that well before hand), and it was filled with liberated boyz (queer and otherwise), sassy seasoned activists, and hot feminist-lesbians many of whom I (gasp!) got to talk to. This however, had a distinctively moral-majority, middle america feel to it, at least that’s how it felt to me. The two biggest banners (yes, advertisements were posted all around the track where we were walking) were for LARGO (law-abiding and responsible gun owners) and Curves (which donates thousands of dollars to abstinence-only education programs). There were “got jesus?

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long time gone

hey ya'll! wow, feels like forever since i've been here....time will do that to you, right? lol. guess i've just been really busy becomin all radical, obsessin over my sort-of ex, and doin about a thousand other things at the same time (or trying to anyway). But my political stuff is winding down for the summer, i've promised myself that i would stop thinkin' bout the ex (even though she comes home from boarding school this weekend.

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rowdy grrls

YES! That’s all I can say. Punk rock is such a boyz domain, and it goes w/out saying, a mostly-straight one, but I finally found grrls who SCREAM. Not sing, not prance around in front of an all male band. Women who pour their emotions out on stage, then roll around in them, and get dirty. I mean, they could sing too, but their voices enhanced the music, and weren’t the sum total of it. Frankly, I was beginning to wonder if women like that existed. There was only so much fantasizing about being a guy that I could handle w/out becoming really depressed……

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questioning

I’m heterophobic. Which is kind of ironic, considering that I’m currently identifying as bisexual. I’m fine with the idea of being with a man in a sexual capacity, but a romantic one? My natural inclination is just…..ewww. I see girls with their boyfriends, and I have to look away, even if they’re just holding hands or whatever. On the other hand, I can watch the “resident lesbian couple

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ambushed!

For me, homophobia has always been subtle. A silence after someone admits their homosexuality. The occassional “I know he’s gay because he cares when his pants get dirty

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it's official

Okay, I’m officially conflicted. I have this friend (how many of my posts have started out this way? Far too many…)anyway, we seem to be on totally different wave-lengths. For example, yesterday we got into this big discussion and she was telling me about how she was kinda uncertain about whether giving head is something she’s ever gonna be comfortable with, and I’m kinda doing my best not to let on how victorian that sounds to me.

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